This feels like falling in love
by her ocean eyes
Summary: Whenever Killian Jones puts his hand on his belt buckle Emma Swan has trouble concentrating. One-shot. Captain Swan.


**This feels like falling in love**

_(It started out as smut but somehow it now has many many feels in it and I really hope you enjoy this one.)_

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Whenever Killian Jones puts his hand on his belt buckle Emma Swan has trouble concentrating.

It is rather frustrating, really, especially when she has more important things to worry about (like finding/defeating the Wicked Witch or learning how to control her magic) but she can't help herself.

She has given up denying her attraction to him a long time ago but she thinks she manages to keep it under control most of the time.

But right now, with his hand right _there_, on his belt buckle, his ringed fingers playing over the metal Emma has some real difficulties to think about anything else than to undo the buckle and the laces of his leather pants, to finally pull them down, to take him in her hands, to go on her knees for him and to wrap her mouth-

Aaaaaand she _really_ shouldn't think about pleasuring Captain Hook with her mouth when her parents are only a few feet away.

So she blinks once, twice and then focuses her attention back on the conversation, ignoring the sound of metal meeting metal as he continues to tap his fingers against his belt buckle and the heat that's already pooling between her legs.

"So basically you're saying we should take the day off?" Snow asks Killian incredulously, her hands stroking over her belly tenderly.

Emma's gaze flickers to Hook as he tips his head back and presses his tongue to his cheek before replying to her mother.

"There is nothing _you_ can do anyway, m'lady, I mean-"

Out of the corners of her eyes she can see David tense up, mentally preparing himself for an inappropriate comment but Emma interrupts him before he can say something.

"Regina says that there is nothing we can do. The Witch wants her heart and as long as Regina keeps it hidden we are unable to do anything but let _her_ handle things. And _I know_, Mary Margret, I don't like it either," she quickly says and her parents sigh.

David sits down next to Snow, taking his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.

"We could go looking for Zelena ourselves," the prince suggests.

"Too dangerous. We can't risk losing anyone else to the Witch," Emma explains calmly.

"And what are we supposed to do for the rest of the day?" David asks and Emma shakes her head, running one hand through her hair.

"Relax. Enjoy having the day off?" she suggests with a shrug, getting up from her seat.

Again there is the sound of a finger tapping against metal and Emma doesn't even glance at Killian, she already knows what sight awaits her.

"And what are you going to do, love?" the pirate asks and this time she turns her head and looks at him, her green eyes meeting his.

He looks at her intently, his eyes exploring her features carefully. He looks at her with a mixture of curiosity and adoration and she feels her heart skip a beat.

"I'll head back to the bed 'n' breakfast, I suppose," she shrugs and Killian nods.

"I shall accompany you then," he states - and finally let's go of that goddamn belt buckle.

_Thank God!_

"Fine," she shrugs then.

She gives her parents one last glance and a small smile before she heads out of the apartment she once called her home, her pirate right behind her.

.

.

They are standing in the hallway of the bed 'n' breakfast and he's doing it again.

He leans against the door to his room, his hand dancing over his belt buckle while he talks to her.

She tries. She _really_ tries but every now and then her gaze dips lower, to his mid-section, to where his hand lies and she swallows - _hard_, feeling the heat pool between her legs again.

Every fiber of her being yells at her to touch him, to feel his skin on hers, to feel his body melt into hers, his lips on hers.

She wants to lunge forward, wants to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him but she doesn't. Instead she angles her body towards his, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans as she thinks about yanking him closer, of cupping him through his leather pants, feeling him hard against her palm and-

"Swan, you alright over there?" he asks, one of his eyebrows arched and she clears her throat, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

"I- I'm fine," she says but he just frowns and pushes away from the wall, coming so close she can feel his breath caressing her lips.

She really doesn't want to look down at his lips but it is like she can't stop herself from doing so.

But when she looks up again she is relieved to find his gaze still fixed on her lips - at least she is not the only one who has trouble to keep her feelings in check.

His eyes flicker back up to her eyes and a small smile tugs on the corners of his lips.

"Having some trouble concentrating?" he teases her gently and she rolls her eyes, a small on her lips.

"You wish," she replies.

She wants to sound confident but it comes out breathy and a little bit shaky and not confident or unaffected at all.

"I do," he murmurs, his breath hot on her lips.

She takes in a shaky breath, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. He follows the movement of her tongue with his eyes and swallows hard.

"You do?" she breathes, looking into his eyes again.

He nods and his tongue darts out, tracing his lower lip. She falls victim to this movement, follows it with her eyes, wishing it was her own tongue instead of his.

"Aye," he mutters, leaning forward until their lips were only a few inches apart.

She tilts her head upwards ever so slightly and he angles his towards hers, their lips meeting halfway.

The second their lips press into each other a fire ignites between them. Its flames burn bright and red between them and they are roaring with passion and unspoken desire and something that feels so much like love that Emma doesn't want to think about it.

Instead she enjoys the burn of his scruff on her skin, the feeling of his lips on hers and she has to admit she that she want this moment to last forever because she finally is in the arms of the man she lo- _cares about_, she immediately corrects herself and it feels so good, it feels like home and she's burning up, heat pooling between her legs and she moans into his mouth as one of her hands comes to his neck, her fingers tangling in his messy black hair as her other hand brushes over his bare chest, dipping lower already.

His fingers are tangled in her hair, cupping the back of her head tenderly as his lips move over hers passionately, teeth nipping, his tongue teasing. She mewls softly, parting her lips beneath his, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth, returning his teasing brush with a brush of her own tongue.

She pushes her hips forward, her aching center searching for friction, finding it in his hardened length that strains against the leather of his pants.

She wants him so desperately, she's scorching with heat and desire and lust and need and it's all only for him.

Emma breathes out shakily and then she inhales, breathing him in like he is the very air she needs to live because right now he is all she wants, all she needs. He is exhaling too, his breath dancing over her lips, then he inhales and it feels like he is breathing her in too as he rolls his hips against hers, his desire brushing over hers, setting her on fire once more.

It is the way their bodies melt into each other that makes Emma forget _everything_.

No Wicked Witch to worry about, no more magic to learn, no emotions to keep in check - she just _feels_ and she feels _good_ and it feels _right_ and she doesn't want this feeling to stop, she wants to lose herself in his touch but then there are two distinct voices coming closer - her subconscious recognizes them as Tink's and Ariel's - and suddenly Emma remembers where they are - in the hallway of Granny's B&B, _in public_ - and that they are making out like two horny teenagers and that this isn't appropriate for the town's sheriff but he feels too good and she can't stop.

He is the one who breaks the kiss eventually.

He pulls away from her slowly, his lips remaining pressed against hers as long as possible until only his forehead is resting against hers.

She cracks open her eyes just to find him already looking at her. His cheeks are slightly pink, his lips kiss-swollen and she wonders if she's looking like that too.

The voices come closer but he doesn't say a word, waiting for her to make a move.

For a moment she thinks about writing this off as another one time thing but she knows as wells as he does that it isn't. He may be more obvious about his feelings for her than she is about her feelings for him.

He loves her and while she is not quite sure if it is love she feels for him it is far more than friendship. She doesn't _like_ him the way people like their friends. What she feels is stronger - much stronger - but she doesn't want to think about that too hard.

But she also doesn't want to stop, not now, not when she is burning for him so to answer the unasked question that dances in his piercing blue eyes she tilts her head up, pressing her lips into his ever so softly, her eyes still open, locked with his.

Somehow he manages to open the door to his room and to pull them inside them moment Ariel and Tink round the corner to their hallway. The moment the door shuts behind them Killian presses her against it, his hand and hook on her hips as he presses his body into hers, his hips rocking against hers in slow, leisure circles that makes her moan into his mouth.

His lips are hot and passionate on hers and she wants _more_, so much more, pushing his leather coat hastily from his shoulders. She whimpers as his fingers nimbly unbutton her shirt, his hand softly caressing her newly bared skin.

Killian breaks away from her lips, resting his forehead against hers while he opens his eyes slowly and glances down her body.

When his fingers dance over her stomach, still dipping lower, she arches into him, rocking her hips forward and into his. He groans softly before his head dips lower, his lips kissing the top of her breasts.

His hand and hook come to drag the bra straps down her shoulders, causing the cups to slip lower, exposing her breasts to him.

She whimpers needily as his mouth descends on one of her breasts, his lips brushing over her taut nipple before he takes it in his mouth, sucking her soft flesh into his mouth, teeth scraping over her sensitive skin.

Her hands find their way into his hair naturally as his hand moves down her body, over her stomach and to her pants, popping open the button of her jeans before slipping inside, cupping her hot center through her panties.

His skilled fingers pull the fabric of her underwear aside, finding her wet and ready for him.

Killian stops his ministrations on her upper body and Emma opens her eyes, glancing down at him, his fingers not once stopping to move over her core, one of them brushing over her entrance teasingly before moving back to the bundle of nerves between her legs , drawing wet, lazy circles over her clit.

"I've never expected you to be so wet for me, love," he murmurs, lifting his head to hers and kissing her briefly.

"I'm full of surprises, aren't I?" she replies breathily a small smile dancing over her lips.

He gives her one of his rare honest, dazzling smiles that make her heart skip a beat because she realizes she wants this. Not only _this_, not only the physical contact, she wants _him_, she wants _him and her_, wants to make him happy, wants him to make _her_ happy - he already does, _oh gods_ he already does and how could she have been so blind? - but at the same time she wants to run.

He is no knight in shining armor, he is a pirate and she is afraid that he will leave her but then again... He always came back to her, he not only cares about her, but about her family too. The most important thing for him is her happiness and she is happy when she is with Henry or her parents or _with him_. Maybe it is time to trust her instincts, to close her eyes and take a leap of faith.

"Aye," he replies and when he kisses her again she tries to pour all her feelings into this touch, tries to show him how much she cares - but she is afraid it is not enough.

He breaks away from her, panting, gasping for air. His blue eyes flying open, meeting hers immediately as she slowly looks up at him. She shouldn't have worried. He knows, he always knows.

He flexes his fingers and she moans into his mouth as he pushes two fingers inside her wet core, arching into him, rolling her hips, riding his hand.

"Let me pleasure you, my love," he whispers against her lips and she nods.

His lips find hers once more, then they trail kisses down her throat, peppers them along her collarbone, kisses both of her breasts briefly before his lips wander down, over her stomach and he presses a kiss right above the waistband of her jeans before he drops to his knees in front of her.

Killian gazes up at her as he lifts his hand and hook to her jeans, pulling them down together with her panties, baring her to him.

She can't help but feel like he is admiring her like a priest admires his god, can't help but feel cherished and worshipped and she doesn't want to be in love with him but she is - _she is_ - and as her eyes meet his she is sure he can read the emotions in her eyes as if they are written in them like on a blank sheet of paper.

Killian places his hook on her hips, his hand pushing her legs apart and he leans forward, pressing his mouth to her slick folds, his tongue darting out, licking over them and she writhes underneath his touch.

Her hands come to his hair, clawing at his scalp as he laps at her clit and enters her with two fingers again, pushing them in and out of her at a slow pace, coating them in her wetness. He sucks at her clit, his teeth scraping over her lightly and she whimpers, his touch too much but not enough and with each lick of his tongue, each flicker of his fingers he pushes her closer and closer to that delicious edge, sending her tumbling down into the sweet abyss of fulfilled desire only a few minutes later, his fingers and tongue slowly coaxing her back to reality afterwards.

She is relieved that she leans against the door because otherwise she would have fallen to the floor bonelessly - not that she doubts that he would have caught her - but she is glad nonetheless.

He pulls his fingers from her and she softly cries out at the loss, looking down at him as he pops his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them of the wetness that still clings to them. His scruff glistens with her juices as she pulls him up to her, pressing her lips to his and kissing him greedily.

She tastes herself on his tongue as his tongue tangles with hers and she arches her body into his, feeling the black fabric of his shirt and vest on her breasts, the leather of his pants on her legs - and feels his erection press against her inner thigh.

She sighs into the kiss as she realizes that he is content like this. He is content that she is satisfied, he doesn't crave for his own relief.

He puts her first, even now when she can feel his arousal pressed against her he doesn't push her.

It's her, it's always been her for him, since the day they met and he loves her and she is in love with him too and he just-

Emma nips at his lower lip as her fingers quickly undo his vest and shirt coming to a rest on his belt buckle.

_His belt buckle_.

The reason all of this started. And suddenly she remembers what she wanted to do since she had discovered that little habit of his and decides that it's the payback he deserves and this is only their first time, there are many more to come because she doesn't want to run this time - even if her instincts tell her to - she will stay, she will be with him.

She pushes him away from her softly, further into the room and he looks at her in surprise as she unclasps her bra that had been clinging to her body during all of his ministrations and moves towards him,

He studies her for a few more moments than he moves a step back, shrugging shirt and vest off of him and Emma swallows hard, desire starting to gather between her legs again as her eyes trail down his chest, following his treasure tail down to where it disappears in his pants.

She wets her lips, stepping closer to him, her hands roaming over his upper body, pushing him back ever so slightly until his legs hit the bed and she pushed him down, into a sitting position, one hand resting on his thigh, the other on his belt buckle.

He looks at her with silent wonder in her eyes, then she briefly kisses him and kneels before him, her hands quickly undoing his belt buckle.

"You don't have to," he says, trying to stop her, his hand caressing her cheek tenderly, but she just smiles up him, feeling him tense under her touch as her fingers caress him through the leather of his breeches.

"You have no idea how much I want to," she grins up at him, watching him swallow hard as she unlaces his pants - she tries to do it gracefully but until now she never had to deal with _laces_ only with buttons and zippers and she has the feeling she unlaces his pants rather awkwardly but he doesn't seem to mind, instead he moans softly as she reaches inside his pants and pulls him out, her fingers dancing over his hard shaft softly.

His breathing is already labored when she starts to stroke her hand up and down his length, her eyes fixed on his cock and she feels the wetness between her legs building, a needy whimper escaping her throat.

"You drive me crazy with that thing you do," she murmurs, leaning forward, kissing the tip of his cock, pre-cum clinging to her lips.

She licks it of quickly, enjoying his salty taste on her tongue far more than she should.

"What thing?" he croaks and she smiles, giving his tip another kiss.

"Belt buckle," she breathes and he groans, knowing immediately what she's talking about. "Whenever I see your hand right there I can't help myself," she adds quietly, her voice nothing more than a seductive whisper that has him tensing up even more. "I want to open your pants and wrap my mouth around you, please you with my mouth until you-"

"Emma," he moans, his hand fisting in her hair.

She smiles and kisses his tip once more before she wraps her mouth around his glans, slowly going down on him, taking more and more of him in her mouth, opening her throat for him, swallowing around him until she can feel him at the back of her throat, her nose brushing over his sex hair.

He moans as she keeps him there for a few seconds until she pulls away from him until only his tip is still in her mouth, taking a long shaky breath before taking him in once more.

He's moaning and whimpering, her name falling from his lips like a prayer again and again. She bobs her head up and down on his cock, glancing up at him just to find him looking down at her with that same awestruck expression he always looks at her.

His cheeks are pink, his lips parted, his blue eyes almost black with lust and she feels _proud_ because it is because of _her_ that he looks like that, she is the one pleasuring him.

"Emma. Love," he moans again as she sucks on his tip once more, his hips bucking under her ministrations. "I can't-"

She glances up at him once more, watches how he tries to stay calm, to keep himself from coming but she just takes him in deep again, causing him to let out a guttural groan before his hand tightens in her hair and she feels his release spurting down her throat.

She swallows it all, lifting her head until only the tip of his cock is still in her mouth, one of her hands closing around his shaft and pumping while she sucks him dry.

When she is done she leans back, licking her lips and glancing back up at him. He is panting, his eyes still fixed on her as he leans forward, pulling her up to him.

She sits down on his lap, her hot center brushing over his now limb cock, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning her forehead against his. His hand comes to cradle the back of her head again and he kisses her long and slowly and thoroughly and she had never felt so cherished before.

"I love you," he murmurs against her lips and her eyes fly open instantly.

She feels his hooked arm coming around her waist as if he is afraid she will run. Even though she only promised herself she won't she feel the urge to.

Her green eyes study his blue ones and they stare at each other for quite a long time.

He loves her and it is too much, she wants to run, wants to get away from him but she can't and he sees the panic in her eyes, his hand softly massaging her scalp, his cold hook drawing soft circles on her back, the tip lightly scratching over her skin but she isn't afraid of him, he won't hurt her, he loves her.

_He won't hurt her_, she repeats to herself. Not with his hook and not with anything else.

She needs to learn to trust him with her heart, needs to learn to hand it over to him without being afraid of him running away with it.

"I love you, Emma Swan," he repeats softly and she really tries to relax in his arms but it is hard and she can't, not completely. "It's not something you have to be afraid of," he whispers.

He repeats those three little words over and over, again and again until they don't feel so big anymore, until they don't scare her anymore, until she finally relaxes in his arms.

Her head falls to his shoulder and she exhales slowly, letting him pull her closer.

"I love you," he murmurs one more time and she lifts her head, resting her forehead against his.

"Good," she finally whispers and kisses him.

She gives him hope, tells him she returns his feelings without having to say those big words that still scare her - just not when they fall from his lips because she knows it's the truth and that he would do _anything_ for her.

She buries hers hands in his hair, parting her lips, sucking his lower lip into her mouth and he opens his mouth for her, his tongue coming to tangle with hers. He rolls them over, bracing himself on his hooked arm as his body hovers over hers. He rocks his hips into hers and she moans as he feels his half-erect length pressing against her still moist center.

She shoves his leather pants down his legs and he gets rid of them rather hastily, almost clumsily in his rush to be back on top of her.

When he finally is back there she arches into him, her lips melting into his instantly, her hands sprawling out over his back.

He starts to rock his hips into hers, his length brushing over her center with each of his movements, sparking the burning desire in her stomach once more until his cock his hard again.

She moans into his mouth, one of her hands taking his erection into her hand and guiding him to her slick entrance.

They both open their eyes, losing themselves in one another as he thrusts his hips forward, making her moan and writhe and it feels so good, she feels complete and relieved and _gods_, how can she ever have enough of this, of _him_?

He starts to take her with long, slow thrusts that aren't enough for either of them but it feels _so right_ to not just fuck, but to make love - because that's what this is. It's not just sex - not for him (because he loves her and maybe it would have been possible to just have sex at the very beginning but not _now_, not anymore) and not for her either - it is _more_ and they both know it, both admit it.

Her hands claw at his back, at his ass while he trails kisses from the corner of her mouth to her neck, sucking on her sensitive skin, making sure to leave a mark behind.

She chuckles at that and he breaks away from her neck, looking at her with a frown on his handsome features. One of her hands comes to cup his face and her thumb tenderly brushes over the scar on his cheek.

"You don't have to mark me, I won't run this time," she smiles and his gaze softens.

He's rolling his hips into hers, hitting the spot deep inside her that has the desire in her core boiling. Her eyes fall shut as she moans and arches her back and then she feels his lips pressing into hers before he breaks away from her again, covering her face with soft butterfly kisses.

"I just want to make sure this is real and not a dream," he mutters in her ear and his words have her stomach clench painfully.

She didn't have her memories over the course of the last year but he had. And even back then he had loved her. She knew what it felt like to miss someone who she would never see again. She had felt like this when she had given up Henry for adoption, when she had waited for Neal and he didn't show up. When she had given up looking for her parents because she would never find them, never see them at all.

She buries her head in the crook of his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his skin, closing her eyes and holding onto him as she rolls her hips into his, meeting every slow thrust of him.

"You dreamed of me? Of this?" she whispers into his ear and she feels him nod.

"Every night and when I woke I remembered you were gone and I would never see you again," he confesses and she wraps her arms tightly around him, holding him close, letting him feel every inch of her body, making sure he knows that she is right here with him, that she is not going anywhere.

But she feels like her mere presence isn't enough, he needs more, needs words and not just the feeling of her body pressed into his.

"I'm here now. And I'll stay," she promises softly.

He buries his head in the crook of her neck and she feels wetness clinging to her skin. Killian Jones cries and she understands why. She brings her hands to his head, fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp softly.

Emma Swan isn't the only one who is afraid of being alone, he is too. They are one and the same but still different, two matching pieces, designed to be broken just to heal one another in the end.

She lifts her hips, urging him to pick up his pace and though it is still slower than she is used to she can feel her climax building.

"I'm here," she tells him, pulling his head up and kissing him.

He quickens his pace once more and she is falling, _falling_, but he catches her, holds her as his own release washes over him and then his weight is crushing and he is peppering kisses along the column of her throat, marking her - she doesn't stop him this time.

She feels him going limp inside her but he remains right there, sprawled out on top of her like a blanket and she doesn't want him to move, instead she runs her fingers through his hair, drawing slow circles on his back while he continues to nip and suck on her skin.

"I won't let you go, Swan," he murmurs and she wraps her arms around him, forcing him to look up at her.

"I don't want you to," she replies softly.

"Good," he whispers and it sounds like a promise.

"Good," she repeats and it sounds like an "I love you".


End file.
